Possibility
by Gypsy Feet
Summary: He’s perceptive and so are you. He puts the puzzles together and you try to understand the people. That’s the difference that tears you apart and holds you together. xOneshotx


**Possibility**

**by: **Emmy

**Summary:** He's perceptive and so are you. He puts the puzzles together and you try to understand the people. That's the difference that tears you apart and holds you together.

**A/N: **This has beenlurking for a while in the back of my head, I didn't know what I wanted so I put it off until just now. I found the prompt at the HouseCameron LJ comunity but I'm not part of the ficathon. I just liked the prompt and it spurred me on to finally get this garbage out of my head and in an orderly faszhion. This is my first time writing in this fandom, so excuse any out of charactor-ness that might occur, and tell me about it too. Please, if you would review and tell me what you thought (CONSTRUCTIVE criticism is welcome), it would be much appreciated. Otherwise, please enjoy this little piece of head vomit...

Make your decision and don't you dare think twice  
go with your instincts along with some bad advice  
this didn't turn out the way I thought it would at all  
you blame me but some of this is still your fault

I tried to move you, but you just wouldn't budge  
I tried to hold your hand but you'd rather hold your grudge  
I think you know what I'm getting at  
you said goodbye and I just don't want you regretting that

Relient K - Which to Bury, Us or the Hatchet?

You don't understand why you're still here. Everything is pointing you in a different direction. You know that you aren't doing what's best for you, but that doesn't matter anymore. Nothing does anymore.

All you know is that you can't leave.

Because he hasn't opened up to you. He's got the key in the door and you need him to turn it. You need him to because it means that staying wasn't a mistake. You hate mistakes because they mean people get hurt.

There's enough hurt in the world as it is.

So you stay and you smile and you pretend you know what is going on. You don't. But you don't think he does either. It's not justification or clarification. It _is_ comfort though, so you hold onto it like it matters.

Even though it doesn't.

You can't leave now because everything about the both of you is a possibility. If it was anything more or less then you would be able to make a logical decision. But he stole logic when his lips said no and his eyes said yes. There was no logic in that moment and there is no logic left.

Logic never defined you anyway.

You think maybe you're stuck here because of what his best friend told you. It seems wrong that someone you don't know very well can have such a very large effect on your life. You also think it's amusing in a sick kind of way that he's an oncologist. A bearer of bad news. You suspect that you will die of breast cancer because life has a fucked-up sense of humor.

He would laugh at you if you told him that and tell you that you need not worry because you have no breasts.

You hate the way he's open and closed. You hate the way he tells the truth through his lies and his lies through his truths. It's confusing and twisted and brilliant.

He's the most brilliant person you've ever met.

You think he hates you for everything the both of you aren't. He blames you for the possibilities that define you. You're both everything and nothing and it's going to eat the both of you up. He hates you when his leg hurts too much to bear.

He hates everyone when his leg hurts too much to bear.

He hates her the most though. He blames her. He blames her for the pain and the stares. He blames her because it's justification. Blaming her means that he can hate with a reason.

He loves reasons.

He believes in cause, motive and disappointment. Nothing happens without a reason because a lack of reason means science can't explain it. You think that he is in love with science.

You think that maybe you hate it.

You gave up trying to make him let go the day you realized it would never happen. You don't want him to be perfect. You don't want him to be imperfect. You don't want him just for yourself and you don't want him for anyone else. You want him to understand. You want him to explain.

You want him to stop making all those fucking suppositions and start learning the facts.

He thinks he's the smartest person in the world. He also thinks he's the worst. He's neither and both. You know he's naturally brilliant. You know that you're not. You're bright and quick. He's brilliant. There's so much space between you that you won't ever cover because he doesn't want you to. He's perceptive and so are you. He puts the puzzles together and you try to understand the people.

That's the difference that tears you apart and holds you together.

It's your ability to see past the obvious facts that makes you a great doctor. It makes you a great person too. Its his ability to see past the obvious facts that makes him a great doctor. Its his ability to see past the obvious that makes him an ass. You pull apart and he puts together. You find the picture that nobody else sees. He finds the picture that nobody else comprehends.

It's the perfect harmony.

You tried to make him understand once. He can't though, so you kept trying until it hurt too much. You don't try anymore. He tries anyway. You don't try to make him understand. He wants to though.

It's why you can't let this go.

If he wants to know then there is possibility. If there's possibility then there's possibility to hurt. It's written in everything you don't say. It's written in the looks you share. It's written in your actions. It's written in his. It's written in what doesn't exist. It's written in what could exist. It's written in what may exist.

In the end you blame possibility, because it's the possibility that defines the both of you.


End file.
